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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26742424">Ghost</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gleemonster01/pseuds/Gleemonster01'>Gleemonster01</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alexander Hamilton Being Alexander Hamilton, Alexander Hamilton Pining For Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton has Astraphobia, Alexander Hamilton is a Mess, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hamilton Dies In His Duel With Burr And Comes Back As A Ghost, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, Past Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, President Thomas Jefferson, Thomas Jefferson Has a Crush, Thomas Jefferson Loves Alexander Hamilton, Thomas Jefferson being Thomas Jefferson, ghost!Alexander Hamilton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:02:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,905</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26742424</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gleemonster01/pseuds/Gleemonster01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Death comes to everyone, even if it’s before their time. For some, it's just another form of punishment where they are forced to live in between worlds until they have earned their place on the other side. This is the situation Alexander Hamilton has left with, having nothing to go except for the fact he has to complete his unfinished business before he can join everyone else that have passed on. Which would be easy if Hamilton knew what his unfinished business was or if the only person who can see him is a man he not only has despised but pined for since forever.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ghost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Death comes to everyone, even if it’s before their time. No one knows when she will come but when she does it is often unannounced and sometimes unexpected. Death is a cruel woman, a cruel woman who gets bored very easily and entertains herself by tormenting the souls who weren’t accepted into the after life. Souls who had unfinished business with the living world, souls like Alexander Hamilton. Death smiled down at the unconscious soul, admiring her new plaything. She kicked at the man’s buckled shoe, chuckling softly as the man was startled from his slumber and struggled to back on his feet. Hamilton tried to steady his breathing as he examined his surrounding, he was back in Weehawken but why? Burr had shot him, presumably killing him with his aim. Yet here he was, in the dark of the night, with nothing to light his way but the lights from across the harbour. Alexander couldn’t still be alive, if he was why couldn’t feel anything but a deep coldness. Not even the pain that should be radiating from the bullet wound. He examined himself for a quick minute, noticing his grieving attire had no sign he was ever shot. Hamilton couldn’t dwell on that as he began dusting himself off, but not long after his attention was drawn to a dark skin woman with short blonde hair dressed in a beige dress. Her smile nauseated Hamilton, made him shiver in mild fear. Alexander just simply nodded at the woman before he began his walk back home. As he walked he could hear the woman laugh hysterically and before long was walking alongside him, smiling at him with teeth that were too white to be natural. Her whole appearance seemed to have the same characteristics. Hamilton’s main concerns at the moment was why a woman like her was doing in Weehawken late at night. He pushed the thought out of his mind, Alexander needed to get home to his family.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t go home if I were you.” The woman smirked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That smirk. It reminded him of one a certain Virginian used to give every time he won a debate. The one he had become irresponsibly attracted to. The one he had a fiery hatred for, the one he endorse, the one he aided in winning the election. But now he couldn’t say he hated the man anymore, after all he lost, all that happened, Hamilton grew tired of hating. Don’t get him wrong, the Virginian and his beliefs made his blood boil, but at least the man had beliefs. Jefferson was the only one who challenged him as an intellectual, made him work harder, and dare he say turned him into a better politician. Maybe not a better person but definitely a better politician He just hoped that the endorsement was enough to establish a truce. It was a shame Washington wasn’t alive, he would be ecstatic to have known his two favourite secretaries were finally willing to put their differences aside. At least that’s what Hamilton wanted. Although, knowing their past, the endorsement probably wasn’t going to be enough for the new president of the country. Jefferson probably wanted Hamilton to get on his knees and beg for his forgiveness. He shook the thought out of his head and sighed, turning back to the woman. She really did remind Alexander of the infuriatingly handsome Thomas Jefferson.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And why’s that? A follow up, who are you? No offence but your presence is very unnerving.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The woman hummed. “The mortal world refer to me as Death. Even though my work can be tedious, I often find myself taking in play things to keep me entertain. Souls who Heaven nor Hell want or who have unfinished business. You are one of those souls Alexander Hamilton. You are now what the superstitious call a ghost, a phantom. You are no longer alive but you are not quite dead either.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was Hamilton’s turn to laugh. There was no such thing as ghosts. It was just a scary tale folks told to frighten their friends or even their children into behaving. They did not exist. They couldn’t exist. There hadn’t been any physical proof that such supernatural entities were real. Then there was this woman who claimed to be ‘Death’ in physical form. That was Hamilton’s main issue, Death had no physical form. It was an event that occurred when you grew old or when your long time friend gets hurt after losing an election and decides the best way to handle this is to duel it out. He wiped the tears that had fallen from his eyes, glancing at the woman who was the least bit impressed with his outburst.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you done?” Death asked</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alexander nodded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Like I was saying, you’re in between two worlds, not quite alive but not quite dead. The world in between worlds is known as The Veil. Only selected mortals can see through like clairvoyants or more commonly through a soul bind.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alexander just nodded again, deciding it was in his best interested to play along. In the short time, they’ve been together, Hamilton could tell this woman was cruel. She gave off that presence that she got pleasure from people’s misery, that and the fact people like him were mere play things to her. Still, She was clearly plotting something, what it was exactly Alexander couldn’t even begin to guess. “Death” was a hard book to read and understand. “Death” never gave him the impression that she give him information unless it aided in his pain and misfortune.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why are you telling me this?” Hamilton growled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Never mind that, didn’t you want to go back home?” She asked with a sickly smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, my wife is surely worried about me…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Come on, it shouldn’t be much further.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The man had to be cautious, nothing about this seemed real. It was like his tiredness was finally catching up to him, causing his mind to hallucinate such unsettling woman. Nevertheless, she was willing to aid him in his journey home and that’s what truly matter. Eliza was all alone and most definitely worried sick about him. Alexander didn’t deserve a woman like Eliza, all he had done was break her heart and continue to lust for people he couldn’t have, when he was a married man. He spent years after the Reynolds Pamphlet trying to redeem himself. Giving her space, establishing a sleeping area on his office floor. Even buying a new bed, linen and mattress so Eliza wouldn’t have to sleep amongst his mistakes. Yet, it didn’t feel like enough. He was so deep in thought he barely heard the galloping of horses hooves getting closer and closer. Death practically dragged out of the way as a black horse drawn carriage stop alongside them. What Hamilton was drawn to the most was the coachman and his horse. The coachman was dressed in all white, and seemed to be malnourished as Alexander could have sworn he could see the man’s bone through his thin layer of skin. The horse was a different story. Like its handler, the animal was white, fairly large and appeared to be illuminating its own light. That was impossible, a horse wasn’t capable of glowing. As if on cue, Hamilton was soon pushed into the carriage and forced into the seat opposite the woman.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I do apologise but I do need to make this quick. I am a very busy woman after all.” She smiled before the coach started moving.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hamilton scoffed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s the matter? I’m merely cutting down our travel time. I assumed you wanted to arrive home as soon as possible.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I do, it’s just...since we’ve met your demeanour, your words, your self presentation...it reminds me of an old work colleague I absolutely despised.” He lied.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh we both know that’s not true sweet pea. You wouldn’t have endorsed Thomas Jefferson if you absolutely despised him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I endorsed him to prevent Burr from turning the country into anarchy. A country I fought for. Jefferson knew what he wanted, knew what he stood for, despise his horrible political views.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The woman simply nodded as the carriage began picking up speed. It was okay at first until Alexander was forced backwards into his seat, watching the scenery become nothing but a blur. That didn't seem right. There was no way they could be going this fast without no one seeing them, not without the night patrol chasing after them. If Hamilton thought matters couldn't get any worse, he was wrong. The loud sound of sudden raindrops and lightning deafened him, leaving Hamilton with closed eyes and rapid breathing. This wasn’t happening. He wasn't travelling at unnatural speeds, he wasn't travelling with Death, and he definitely wasn't a ghost. All of this was impossible. Hamilton was hallucinating or at the very least suffering through a horrific nightmare. There was no physical proof that ghost existed or that everything he was told up to this point was true. When he finally managed to pry his eyes open, he was meant with a horrifying shock. The woman, his travelling companion was nothing but a skeleton and draped in a long, hooded, black cloak. This sudden realisation didn’t stop the rain or the burst of electricity from the sky. It just increased Hamilton’s anxiety. Any self doubts he was struggle with before had now been thrown out the window, he needed to get out. He wanted to go home. All of this was way too much. Tears slowly fell from his eyes as he struggled with the carriage door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t do that. I don’t want to deal with the collateral damage you doing that will bring. I did try to explain the situation, you just chose not to believe it. Now are you willing to listen to me now?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alexander looked at Death, trying hard to regain his composure. After a while of steady breathing, he managed to calm down and return to a rational line of thought…or at least as rational as you can get when you’ve been told you were truly nothing more than a soul without a body. Or that you’ve truly been travelling with Death his entire time. The man simply nodded, earning a relieved sigh from the woman. Death soon return to her more human form before speaking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alexander, Burr killed you. You threw away your shot and his bullet went right into your side. It’s been three months since then, your funeral is next week. Jefferson’s been aiding your wife with the arrangements. Your wife gave him one of your quill and ink sets as a thank you. Personally I think he did because he felt mildly guilty that his vice president killed you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Doubt it. Jefferson is definitely glad I’m dead. He’s probably throwing a party in the President’s Mansion as we speak.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Death smiled. “I wouldn’t hold your breath. It doesn’t matter anyway because you’re officially soul bound to him now. Since he owns something you are emotionally attached to, you two will be tethered together until you complete your unfinished business.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“WHAT?!! Why him?!! He’ll probably try to kill me a second time!! There’s many items I am emotionally attached that Eliza owns!! Why can’t I be tethered to my wife?!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s a lie Hamilton. There’s nothing you are more emotionally attached to than you quill and ink. Isn’t that why you refused to take breaks, to sleep, to eat? Your wife, your family struggled to pull you away from your desk. Tell me am I wrong?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alexander sighed, no she wasn’t. “Regardless, how will this work? Can you at least give me that?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Death nodded with a sickly smile. Hamilton wished he had his writing supplies so he could note everything she was going to explain to him. It was all a lot to take in, but he figure he got the more important things noted to memory like how control his new ghostly abilities, including how to possess the living and how to bring items from the living world into The Veil. More importantly. how Thomas Jefferson would be the only to talk to him, see him etc. Like he didn’t figure that part out already, there was only one thing that he was truly interested in but Death failed to explain any of it to him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What does unfinished business entail? You keep mentioning that’s the reasoning why I’m here but you fail to explain what it involves or how I can finish mine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Pain and regret are powerful emotions, that’s all you're getting Hamilton. We can’t make it easy for people like you. Ghosts have earn their right to move on, once I believe you have I’ll personally take you to the other side.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alexander sighed. Of course she wasn’t going to give him that information. That information would ease his suffering and frustration, but by not knowing his own unfinished business he was given a challenge. Something he could work on so he could limit his interactions with Jefferson. Somehow, he knew that this wasn’t going to be the case, the universe would force them to socialise. Hamilton suppose he couldn’t complain too much, Death did give more information than he expected her to but at the moment he was too emotionally exhausted to figure out why. Not that he had a chance to, by the time he reentered his deep line of thought the carriage made an abrupt stop. He jerked in his seat, noticing Death had her second costume change of the evening. Her hair was now in a high, tight bun and was now in an emerald green dress with a matching coat. They left the carriage after the driver had opened the door where Hamilton was immediately dragged inside the building and towards a pair of double doors. It barely gave the man a chance to examine his surrounding in order to figure out where Death had taken him...then again he guessed that was the point. Regardless, wherever they were, it was empty and quiet. The only signs of life was the light that radiated under the double doors and the soft notes of the violin behind them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait here. I need to have a short talk with the room’s occupant before you can come in. When we’re done, I’ll bring you in.” She ordered before knocking on one of the doors.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is that why you needed to drag me here?” Hamilton groaned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That and the fact I don’t trust you to go in on your own. I need to make sure you go through with your punishment.” Death smiled</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Over ten minutes later Alexander was left alone, pacing outside the doors. He could only hear snippets of the conversation but not enough to recognise who Death was talking to. All he knew was it was deep voiced male with a lot of political power. And judging by the violin that Hamilton heard a while ago, he only had one guess who it could be and he prayed that he was wrong. Alexander wasn’t ready, he needed more time to figure out how to approach this strange ordeal. As if on cue, the man heard Death call out to him. He entered the room cautiously before standing at Death’s side. Alexander couldn’t help but stare as President Thomas Jefferson approached him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hamilton?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The man smiled sheepishly. “Hello Jefferson.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The President soon entered a crazed laughing fit. If it was under any other circumstances, he would have assume Jefferson was a mad man who belonged in a straitjacket, inside of an institution. He couldn’t blame the man though, Hamilton had a panic attack when he exposed to the true nature of his current situation. Honestly, he thought the President was taking the situation better than he imagined. The former Treasury Secretary thought this would end in a screaming match and objects flying over his head or through his new phantom body.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I must be out of my goddamn mind, you should be dead and yet here you are.” Jefferson chuckled anxiously.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ve tried telling you that for years and now you start believing me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jefferson burst into another fit, only this time his laughs were a bit more shaky. As if he was going to burst into tears at any moment, or the very least break into a panic attack. Alexander hope neither would happen, he really didn’t want to deal with the President in such a state nor did he know how to. It appeared the universe had heard the man’s desperate pleas cause a few minutes in, the universe did the opposite of what he wanted and forced him to witness Thomas Jefferson’s laughing turn into him have a mild panic attack. Hamilton walked over to the man and gentle rubbed his back, making attempts to calm the man down. All this did was get him pinned to the nearest wall with Jefferson glaring at him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“As much as I would love you two fight it out, I do have a schedule to keep. I wish you both the most pleasant of experiences.” Death smiled before showing herself out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This just Alexander Hamilton alone with a clearly frightened and agitated Thomas Jefferson. Moments like these, the shorter of the two men was glad that he was dead, otherwise he would definitely be concerned for his own life right now.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If anyone is confused about any of the ghost logic in this story, don't hesitate to ask in the comment section.  I've done my best to explain it the best I can.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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